Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Tonga and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Gastr Del Sol to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Nas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sam Rivers,
Bad Manners,
Aloha Tigers,
Howard Jones,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Liliput,
Tommy Roe,
The Sisters of Mercy,
LL Cool J,
Ponytail,
The Last Poets,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Durutti Column,
AZ,
Kenny Larkin,
The Trojans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soft Cell,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roger Hodgson,
The Zeros,
Y Pants,
Adolescents,
The Divine Comedy,
Pagans,
Cluster,
Bauhaus,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pylon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tomorrow,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barry Ungar,
Ossler,
Lyres,
Q65,
The Moody Blues,
Glenn Branca,
Juan Atkins,
a-ha,
Royal Trux,
Mad Mike,
Japan,
Motorama,
The Saints,
Morten Harket,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Public Enemy,
John Lydon,
Dead Boys,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.